


Bashful

by frozenlilly



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Only because it's Yata, mature language, maybe eventual smut, shy reader, that long fic nobody asked for but we all secretly wanted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-09-14 13:12:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9183202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozenlilly/pseuds/frozenlilly
Summary: You're shy and quiet, but new to the city. Unfortunately you've gotten lost and with your luck, bump into some unexpected company. Soon, you learn that Homra isn't all that bad and think about joining. Story is set before Fushimi Saruhiko left Homra (soon to change in upcoming chapters).





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> The basics:  
> [f/c]=favorite color  
> [e/c]=eye color  
> [h/c]=hair color  
> The point of view will switch between the reader and Yata, but only once every chapter or so.
> 
> This is my first fanfic so please leave any comments or criticism. I hope you enjoy reading!

It was said that the only people that actually enjoyed city life were those who had only lived in the country and vise versa. Perhaps this common stereotype was true. Regardless, the fact that you were standing in Shizume City and feeling slightly comforted by the business and urgency of it all, was simply astounding.

You had heard of rumors about clans and dangerous gangs on your bus tour, but you hadn’t believed any of them because, in most populated cities, the townsfolk always complained about the bad. It was an easy conversation topic, and most people were pessimists. You on the other hand were not. Being as optimistic as possible, you were always on your toes trying to find the positive in every situation. Maybe that’s why you gnawed on your lower lip; because that positivity was nowhere to be found.

Observing the cloud-high buildings and enormous screens that littered the landscape had gotten your attention unfocused. You had been following the crowd instead of mapping your way throughout the busy city and in your direct misfortune; you had gotten lost. Instead of panicking, you tried to pull up a map on your phone of the city. This only confused you even more.

Grumbling almost inaudibly, you thought of asking someone for help but that suggestion was strictly pushed away. You were naturally a shy person, which wasn’t a trait you wished you had right now. All you wanted to do was visit the town in Tokyo, but now you’ve been forced into a situation you didn’t enjoy.

Reaching up to pull your [f/c] headphones away from your neck and onto your ears, you let out a nervous sigh. Quickly, you tapped on your phone to play your favorite band and turned the volume up particularly high to calm your nerves. Regaining some sense of reality, you turned around to retrace your steps. Weaving around the oncoming crowd of people went by quickly and soon you were able to slow your pace and observe your surroundings.

You felt your teeth graze your lower lip again because nothing looked familiar. _Typical [name], not paying attention and getting lost in a foreign city._ Frustration soon set in and you decided to quicken your pace. Surely you hadn’t gone too far from that fancy looking bar; the one you could’ve sworn you saw not even five minutes ago.

Reaching into your jacket pocket, you grabbed your phone. _Maybe I’ll try the map again, just calm down, don’t freak out._ Attempting to reassure yourself was the only thing you could do at this point. Turning a corner rather quickly, you felt as if you had tumbled over something. Because as soon as your [e/c] eyes lifted from the map on your phone, you were falling.

Widening your eyes and preparing for impact, you stretched your hands forward. Just before you hit the ground, your eyes screwed shut. _What…happened?_   Peeking an eye open, you observed your palms. They stung. Tiny scratches could be seen all along the surface of your hands.  When you opened your other eye, you realized that you weren’t lying completely on the ground. You realized that someone else had fallen, too. And that someone was underneath you.

Blinking and furrowing your brows, you looked at the boy that was wincing with his back against the pavement. You were awkwardly on your stomach, which was somehow tangled between his legs. Observing him, you noticed that his skin was pale but his face was flushed. He had chestnut locks that poked out from an onyx beanie. His hazel eyes darted between you and wherever else, you couldn’t tell.

All of this happened within a few seconds, but it felt like everything was moving in slow motion. Your left hand reached up to feel a stinging sensation on your chin. The pavement had scraped a patch of skin away, so it was slightly bleeding. Blinking your eyes at the boy that was waving his hands in the air and speaking frantically, you saw that his lips were moving but you couldn’t hear anything.

_Ah, that’s right…My headphones._

The boy seemed to have stopped rambling by the time your hands grabbed your headphones and rested them on your neck. And his face seemed to flush darker while you did so.

“Hm?” The sound was mumbled quietly, but was definitely loud enough for the boy underneath you to hear. Almost immediately, he frantically started stuttering words out of his mouth.

“W-What the hell! You d-didn’t hear anything I just said?” He pouted at you with a sigh. _His voice is softer than I expected._

You took to gently shaking your head in response. This aggravated the boy.

“Shit…” Those hazel eyes screwed shut momentarily. When they opened, they seemed to avoid you. “Maybe…that’s a-a good thing, then,” the words were mumbled almost inaudibly and his cheeks were growing even darker. And by your lack of response, he seemed to get even more flustered. “Can you at least g-get off of me? You’re squishin’ my damn legs.” His voice sounded softer; nicer this time. Almost like he was afraid of speaking too loud in fear of offending you.

Blinking your [e/c] eyes, you looked down at the tangled mess you had created. It was then that you felt your face burning up. You took to propping yourself up into a sitting position. Parting your lips, you were about to sincerely apologize but he interrupted you.

“What’s wrong with you? Ah—shit. I-I meant to say t-that you should probably watch where you’re goin’.” His eyes glanced at you, but only for a second. The boy sat up and rubbed the back of his head. “Y-You know, so that shit like this doesn’t happen.” Eyes widening, he blinked at you. “That s-sounded rude! Fuck,” he stuttered and pinched the bridge of his nose.

In his flustering attempt of a conversation, your eyes had moved away from him and towards your phone. The screen shattered from the abrupt impact onto pavement. Frowning, you crawled closer towards the boy and leaned over him. It sounded like he emitted a frightened squeak, but you ignored it. Grabbing your recently destroyed phone, you let a small sigh slip passed your lips. _Great._

“O-Oh,” those hazel eyes glanced down at your phone. Averting his gaze, he awkwardly cleared his throat. “Fuc—uh, I mean sorry.” _Was he really apologizing?_

While you observed your phone, your eyes shyly glanced up at the boy. _Maybe I should…_

“You’re bleeding,” someone said behind the extremely flustered, hazel-eyed boy. Looking up, you saw someone with dark hair, glasses, and a fancy looking outfit leaning against a light pole. It was almost like a suit, except with a vest instead of a jacket. Intrigued, you tilted your head at the man that had just moved to lean over the hazel-eyed boy. He snagged the beanie off of his head and held it in the air, smirking insanely. “Yata, I thought you were the advocate for treating girls nicely. And here you are, injuring an innocent gi—“  
  
“SHUT UP!” The boy with the hazel eyes scrambled to his feet and collided a fist into the other guy’s jaw. He spoke through gritted teeth, “I..It was an accident!” The shorter man was attempting to get his beanie back through force; he twisted the other’s arm, he even yanked on his hair. But when he grabbed the other’s glasses; that was when the black haired one dropped the beanie and smacked the shorter boy. Grumbling, they glared at each other.

After a few seconds of the two of them arguing, they both turned their attention back to you. You were still sitting on the ground rubbing at your stinging hands.

“Do you even know who we are?” The tall, glasses guy asked. In response, you blinked at them in thought. _Of course I don’t. I was just minding my own business when I bumped into someone and fell. Why are they acting so tough? It’s obvious that—_

“We’re Homra. And if you t-think for a minute that just because you’re a girl you’re g-going to get out of apologizing then—“

“Homra?” You asked, interrupting the annoying flustered boy.

It was definitely the wrong question to ask. The two boys’ face turned ivory white, and then twisted into an angry (or perhaps confused) scowl. It was then that you realized the auburn haired boy had a fist that was red with flames. It looked as if he had an aura of red framing his body. The taller one just sighed and gave you a look of shame. Terror widened your eyes as you audibly gasped.

 

“Are you kidding me?”

 

 

_______________________________________________________________________________

 

 

“Are you kidding me?” Yata asked with surprise and slight annoyance. _How stupid is this girl? Usually girls are smart, right? How the fuck can she be wandering Shizume and not know who Homra is._

“Don’t scare her, Yata!” Fushimi backhanded his shoulder roughly. Looking down at her, Yata realized that she looked terrified. Her [e/c] eyes were wide and glossy, almost as if she were about to cry. He hadn’t even noticed that he started up his flames. To someone who had no idea who Homra was, apparently, that probably freaked her out.

“I wasn’t! W-Well, shit. Ah, I mean--!” _Fuck. I’m rambling. Why do I always do this?_ “H-How was I supposed to know she’s scared? S-She’s barely said two words.” _Well at least that’s true._

Hazel eyes met with [e/c] and Yata felt his whole world slow down. The girl had luxurious [h/c] locks that framed her face. She was wearing a black jacket and skinny jeans. The headphones that rested on her neck proved that she was into music, and Yata liked that. Her style wasn’t girly, but it wasn’t edgy either. To top it all off, she had the cutest blush on her face. _Shit. Did I say cute?_

While waving a dismissive hand in the air, she spoke airily, “I’m fine.” She started to wobble as she attempted to stand up, but failed. _Looks like she scuffed her hands pretty bad._ The girl winced and Yata’s heart skipped a beat. A hand slapped the back of his right shoulder and it was his turn to wince. Fushimi gestured towards her; probably hinting that he should help her get up. _Fuck._

Grumbling and outstretching a hand, he turned his face away from the girl. Yata’s face heated up as he blushed. _Just take the hand, don’t thank me. Don’t look at me._ Much to Yata’s dismay, the girl took his hand gingerly and once she was standing upright, she hesitated to let go. Blush increasing at least tenfold, he glanced at her.

“T-Thanks, um…”

_She’s hesitating, why is she hesitating? Oh god._

“…Yata,” the girl finished.

**_Oh god._ **

The girl’s hand gave Yata’s a little squeeze before she let go. Swallowing hard, he let out a shaky sigh.

“I-It’s whatever. Sorry for um,” he quickly gestured at her now useless phone, “that.”

Glancing over at Yata, the girl tilted her head and smiled a bit. _No, don’t smile like that. Not at me. Fuck._ She continued to rub at her injured palms and looked up at him expectantly.

Grumbling again, he answered her with, “Uh, what?”

“Can you…help me?” She whispered.

Yata squeaked. He really, really didn’t want to look at her anymore. Much less talk to her. This was a situation he didn’t want to be in for much longer. Yet here she is, asking for his help of all people. Him; the overwhelmingly shy idiot. Still, he gave in once he glanced over at her and those [e/c] eyes silently pleaded.

“With w-what?” His voice sounded more annoyed and harsh than he wanted. The girl didn’t seem to mind.

“I…should get fixed up,” the girl began in a quiet voice. She was so quiet; he had to strain his ears just to hear her right. “I’m actually lost…a-and…um,” she stammered, blushing slightly.

At this point, Fushimi was growing bored. He grunted, and interjected. “Yeah, well I’m sure Kusanagi can help you with uh,” he pointed at her injured chin and glanced at her hands. “Homra actually isn’t that far from here.” Yata smacked his arm, clearly not wanting to oblige.

“Stop being such a virgin, Misaki,” he sighed.

“Don’t call me that, you dick.” Refraining from murdering Fushimi right there because of the girl that was present, he decided on flicking Fushimi’s glasses off of his face. They growled at each other for at least fifteen seconds before simmering down.

He turned his attention towards the girl that was still waiting patiently and silently pleading for his answer. She did look sort of hurt, and he knew for a fact the boys at the bar would be glad to help her. He just didn’t want to talk to her anymore. His stomach kept twisting inside and out and he was sure he had goose bumps all over his entire body. Still; he had no choice. Groaning miserably for probably the longest five seconds of his life, he fumbled with the hem of his white sweatshirt. He opened his mouth, closed it, grunted, and then reopened it again. Choosing to gnaw on his lip for a few more seconds, he closed his eyes and shrugged.

“Fine.”

The girl’s eyes lit up with excitement. Yata couldn’t understand why she felt the need to look up at him and bow her head in thanks. He also didn’t understand why she was walking so close to him. On their journey, Fushimi was blabbering about something that Yata paid no attention to. He was hyper aware that the girl’s hand kept brushing against his as they walked. Gritting his teeth, he decided not to say anything about it. _What would I say anyway? Hey lady, stop touching me it’s making me feel like I’m going to explode because you’re cute and you’re making me extremely nervous because I’m pathetic? No way._

When they finally arrived at the Homra bar, he opened the door for her. She politely thanked him and looked astonished when she walked in. The bar was familiar to him, so he couldn’t understand why her eyes looked at everything with such admiration.

The casuals were hanging out inside the entrance. Izumo was leaning over the bar conversing with Anna and Tatara, who was giggling behind his hand. Mikoto was sitting on the sofa talking to someone that had just joined. And when the three of them entered, everyone turned to look. Anna was especially interested. She hopped off of her stool and ran over towards the girl that stood in front of Yata. She held up one of her red marbles and mumbled something that was almost unheard.

“Beautiful.”

The girl blushed and waved at Anna, quickly realizing that everyone had their eyes on her. She parted her lips to speak, but before she could Yata interrupted her.

“Yeah, uh…So I-I accidentally bumped into her and…Well she…” _Fuck_. “She needs some help,” he quickly finished and sighed. Quickly, he slipped away from her and plopped down on the sofa next to Mikoto. The guy that had just joined tried to make friendly conversation with Yata, but he wouldn’t allow it. He ignored him because his mind was still racing about the girl in the room.

Quietly, the girl looked up at Fushimi who had just urged her to sit over at the bar.

“That looks painful. How about we fix it up a bit? Tatara, do you mind?” Kusanagi asked while turning around to grab a glass and pour the girl a drink.

“Of course!” Tatara piped and maneuvered to sit next to the girl. He pulled out a small first aid kit and started tending to her small cuts. Something about the way he sat so closely to her and the way he gingerly touched her wounds made Yata’s skin crawl.

“What’s your name?” Mikoto asked curiously.

“Oh, um… [Name],” her voice was soft and shy. Luckily the bar wasn’t too loud so she wasn’t left unheard. “Thank you.” She shifted her eyes around the room, observing everyone. Yata swore that her eyes lingered on him the longest. It was probably his nerves, though. “You all don’t seem as big, bad, or scary as the townspeople said.”

Anna squeaked. _Was that a giggle?_

Everyone went silent for a few seconds and laid their eyes on Mikoto. He blinked at the girl. Then, he started laughing. And after seeing Mikoto’s reaction, everyone else resorted to giggling, too. Yata kept a stiff upper lip and kept staring at his hands.

“Of course we’re not,” Tatara smiled at [Name] and gave her shoulder a friendly pat.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a week and a half since your first visit at Homra. Today, you have to decide whether or not to tell them you're just visiting Shizume and you plan on leaving soon. Yata comes to the rescue, in his own bashful, idiotic way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's more Yata in this chapter!  
> Notes:  
> sakura=cherry blossom tree  
> [f/c]=favorite color

Usually, you were the type to avoid groups of people or mass social interaction. The Homra members on the other hand seemed to fuel this sort of void in your heart. They were always cracking jokes, good or bad. They were open, kindred, and most importantly; they treated you the way you've always secretly desired. Like you mattered. Like you weren't just some quiet girl that didn't know anything. Like you were a _person that was included._

They'd always bring you into the conversation and didn't really seem to mind that you didn't talk much. Tatara always seemed to have a camera with him and he started this game of 'Make [Name] Smile So I Can Take a Picture.' At first, it made your nerves itch. After awhile though, you were surprised when he wasn't in your face with the camera. Anna's fondness towards you had only grown tenfold. Every time you slowly creaked the Homra entryway open, she was always the first to greet you. When you sat at the bar, she was right there next to you. And when you joined Homra on a few 'field trips' throughout the City, Anna's hand was always holding yours. Well, whenever Mikoto wasn't around of course. He was her first favorite.

It was comical how Homra made you feel comfortable in just a week and a half. It's Friday now, and you're deciding on whether or not to tell them that you had just planned on visiting Shizume. It'd be easier to disappear and never return. But something seemed to pull at your heart strings. There was a certain familiarity about waltzing into Homra every afternoon. It was as if you were supposed to be there.

Shaking your head to rid your thoughts, you absentmindedly scuffed the bottoms of your black Converse against the gravel. _How am I supposed to tell them?_

On your second day in Homra, you were the center of attention. It felt weird, and you were definitely awkward, but they (of course) didn't seem to mind. They asked every question imaginable. The questions weren't invasive and even if they were, they wouldn't question why your answer was cut short. Anna was amazed when you told her that you enjoyed being here. She had turned to you and cupped your face; silently pleading you to stay. When you brought up that you were staying in a hotel, Izumo offered for you to stay at Homra.

"It's pointless to spend money on a room when we've got an extra here," he had said.

Of course you declined. And they never pressed the offer again. It was nice to be able to be yourself around a bunch of men that didn't seem to care that you were a woman.

Well, apart from Yata.

Whenever you were there, he ignored you or gave quiet, short replies. You felt as if he hated you for some reason, and couldn't bring yourself to ask him why. If he was in Homra and you entered, he'd make up some lame excuse as to why he needed to leave. Tatara always skipped over towards you and linked arms with you; telling you that Yata was just like that. You couldn't understand.

It was 14:27, and you were certain the members of Homra would be wondering where you were. Everyday now, you had shown up at exactly 12:00. But you couldn't go there; not today. Not now.

You had wandered off into a small park. It was surrounded by cherry blossom trees; and since it was the beginning of April, they were just starting to bloom. Spring usually wasn't cold in Japan, but there was an icy wind that tickled your cheeks every few minutes. Luckily, you decided to wear your favorite hoodie. Snuggling into it, you observed the small park. There were benches and couples sitting among them. Looking the other way, you noticed a small patch of sunlight underneath a beautifully blossomed sakura tree. Pulling your hoodie sleeves over your hands for warmth, you found yourself wandering towards that patch of sunlight.

Making yourself comfortable, you sat with your back against the tree. After a moment of admiring the scenery, you pulled out your borrowed phone, courtesy of Tatara, and placed your [f/c] headphones on your ears. Maybe the best thing for you right now is immersing yourself in your thoughts. Playing your favorite song always made you feel better, so you decided to switch over to it. Closing your eyes, you let out a sigh. 

_I really like Homra. It's almost like they've adopted me. I especially like Anna; she's always so sweet. She's quiet too. But...Yata._

You frowned and buried your face in your hands.

_Does he hate me because I tripped over him? It's not like he got hurt._ Your hand slid down to touch the bandage on your chin.  _I thought he'd want to be friends. He promised to help me pay for a new phone, but did he really mean that? I bet Fushimi made him promise. Everyone else in Homra adores me so why--_

As if on queue, your thoughts were interrupted when a gentle kick hit the side of your shoe. Pulling your hands away from your face, you peeked an eye open. Low and behold; the mysterious idiot of a man was standing before you. He had his left hand on his hip, and his right holding his skate board. He was looking at you expectantly, as if waiting for something. When you shrugged at him, he rolled his eyes and pointed at his ears.

_Ah, my headphones. Of course this would happen again._

When you pulled the [f/c] headphones down, he almost smiled at you. It was a weird 40 seconds of silence, so you decided to speak.

"You're blocking the sun," you grumbled playfully.

"Oh. My bad." He moved to stand to the right a bit more, letting the sunlight hit your face and warm your cheeks. Those hazel eyes weren't looking at you, they were looking to the side of you. When you looked to see what he was staring at, nothing was there. Giving him a weird look, he huffed and looked to his left.

"Um," you began, "Do you want to sit or something?" You gently gestured next to you.

" _No_." Yata answered quickly and then reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Er-- I meant to say  _okay_." He was difficult. But surely, he slowly moved to sit next to you. Rather, in front of you. With his legs crossed, he had his elbow resting on a knee and his chin cupped by the palm of his hand. Yata looked frustrated.

Tilting your head, you peered at him curiously. The bridge of his nose and the tops of his cheeks were flushed. You assumed it was because of the chilled wind. For once, he wasn't wearing his black beanie. It was odd, but you took a moment to take in the sight. He had disheveled auburn hair that looked messy but you could tell it was brushed and well taken care of. It almost looked soft; and when you thought about reaching out to touch it, your face flushed. Clearing your throat, you blinked your gaze down at your borrowed phone.

"What are you doin' here?" His voice startled you.

"Huh?"

"Uh, everyone's wondering where you're at. Tatara made me come f-find you," he grumbled, still talking with his face against his hand. His eyes glanced at you for a second. Only a second. "W-Why aren't you sayin' anything?"  
  
Blinking, you parted your lips. Then you sighed and pulled your knees up to your chest. When you hesitated to speak, Yata looked at you again; however, your gaze was focused on the sakura above the two of you. The branches were littered with beautiful, pastel colors. Pastel pink wasn't your preferred color, but it still looked exquisite. Unique. They were all individual, like snowflakes underneath a microscope. Each blossom had its own ethereal beauty. 

Yata's eyes stared at you. You could see him in your peripheral vision, but you decided not to say anything. Soon, his eyes followed yours and he was looking up at the cherry blossoms. 

"I-It's pretty, huh? I've never actually...looked at the sakuras before." You were glad Yata didn't press you to answer his query. You liked how he was comfortable talking about anything, when he was open to talking. The only thing he wasn't comfortable talking about was you. 

"They're more beautiful in Shizume," you whispered timidly. Slowly, your gaze shifted over at Yata. He was looking at you quizzically. 

"You're not from here." His brow furrowed for a moment and then he widened his eyes. "You don't wanna go back to Homra 'cause you're goin' back soon," he whispered. Surprisingly, he didn't stammer this time. His cheeks were flushed, though.

You took to quietly nodding your head. He continued to talk, and you were thankful for that. "That's why you live in a hotel. That's why you asked Tatara to show you around. But if you're leaving, why did you keep comin' back to Homra everyday?" He grumbled to himself and looked down at his skateboard. He was scratching a nail at a chip in the wheel. "Y'know, e-everyone likes you. It's n-not like you..." He bit his lower lip. He glanced up at you. Then, he spoke quietly, "I-It's not like y-you have t-to leave or...anything."

Surprised, your mouth formed an 'o' shape. He quickly defended what he had just said.

"I-I mean I'm sure the others...Like Mikoto would-- Fuck." He sighed and rolled his eyes. "T-They want you to stay, _dummy._ "

"That's funny. You refer to them as 'they,' but you never include yourself." You smirked. "Do _you_ want me to stay," you paused and he locked eyes with you. An embarrassed scowl twisted his face as it faded red. You whispered this last word in the sweetest voice you could muster. Lips teeming with tease, you slowly drew out a quiet "Yaaata," and he nearly fainted.

Yata let a strangled squeal escape his throat, and he reached up to cover his face with his hand. Eyes screwed shut, he let a groan rumble in his throat. Whining, he whispered, "Why do you always _do_ that?"

You took to giggling. And once he calmed down, after an especially long three minutes, he gazed at you. Which was completely out of character for him considering the longest you've seen him look at you was only for four seconds. Yes, you counted.

The frustrated boy grumbled something. You couldn't hear, so you leaned closer and cupped a hand around your ear. He groaned again.

"Kind of," he mumbled nearly inaudibly. A smirk was plastered onto your face. 

_"Maybe,"_ he fixed his answer with a tiny glance over at you. That smirk widened into a grin.

"Then walk me back," you smiled.

"W-What?"

"Walk me back." You shifted and moved until you were standing up, looking down at him with a sweet smile. Cautiously, you outstretched a hand for him. He didn't take it, but that was okay.

"Hey," you began and he looked at you. "Where's your beanie?" 

He rolled his eyes. "Tatara stole it and said the only way I'd get it back was if--" Yata gulped and glanced away. "Uh... If I return with you." He paused. "I-In my arms." He squeaked. "B-Bridal style," he finished with a scowl. You just giggled and shook your head.

"Whatever," you shrugged whilst grinning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I had no idea I'd get feedback on this fic, but apparently a few guests left kudos. ♥ It prompted me to write another chapter. I've read into Japan and its seasons/weather, so everything should be true. Also, 'sakura' is what they call cherry blossom trees, for those of you who didn't see the notes at the beginning of the chapter. :3


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fushimi is avoiding Yata. Soon, you figure out why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter starts off in Yata's point of view.  
> Notes:  
> [e/c]=eye color

"Whatever," [Name] giggled.

Yata liked the way she didn't press things when he was obviously flustered. Sure, she teased him from time to time, but he liked that kind of tease. It was always playful and heartfelt. She always knew when to stop. When his cheeks were flaming red, and his words stumbled over the other; that's when she shrugged it off. It was a miracle that Yata could even utter any words around her, even if they were lamely stammered out.

He didn't necessarily hate girls, he just didn't enjoy being around them. They're totally different from him, and he doesn't know how to cope. Especially the cute ones.

[Name] was a cute one. But he enjoyed her company. Instead of fleeing, he felt the need to stay; and even get closer at times.

"Y-Yeah, he's a dick."

It was a calm silence for a bit. Yata liked that. However, he still felt like something was missing. He hasn't seen Fushimi in days and was starting to get worried.

"Hey, [Name?]"

"Hm?" She looked up at him with a gentle smile.  _Fuck_.

"Uh... Have-- Has F-Fushimi hung out with you at all...lately?"

The girl shook her head and left Yata even more worry some. They share an apartment, so surely he would've seen him at some point, right?

_Shit. Just change the subject._

He glanced over at [Name]. "So uh, what's your favorite band? N-Not like I want to know. I just don't know what to talk about. Y'know?"

She blinked at Yata, and paused. Her right hand reached into her hoodie pocket to grab Tatara's phone. She was quiet for what Yata felt like centuries.

"Show me yours," she smiled, eyes still focused on the phone.

_Show you?_

Shrugging, Yata pulled out his phone and scrolled through tons of albums until his favorite appeared.

"Uh, it's--" His phone was snatched out of his hand and replaced by Tatara’s phone in literally like one second.  _The fuck?_

[Name] stopped walking and faced Yata. Smirking, she slid closer towards him with her hands reaching up. 

_Oh my god, what now? What is she..._

His headphones were gently taken away from his neck and plugged into his phone that was in her free hand. She slipped his phone briefly into her hoodie pocket and slung the headphones over her left elbow. Then, [Name] reached up and took her headphones away from her neck. When her hands reached up to gingerly put them on Yata's ears, his entire existence melted away. He may as well be considered a puddle of shyness and emotion. His hazel eyes blinked at her. She was plugging her headphones into the phone in Yata's _very_ shaky hand.

_Oh._

When she had slipped his headphones on her petite ears, she nudged Yata with a smile. He clicked play on the small phone and was sort of astonished with what was playing into his ears. It was [favorite song], by [favorite band]. Before he had any time to look up at her, she had taken his wrist and tugged him along behind her. After a few moments, she let go. Yata wished she hadn't.

_I doubt she'll like what I'm into. I dig stuff that's probably too punk for her. Rap doesn't look like it'd be her thing, either._

Much to Yata's amusement, [Name] had started walking with a bubbly, musically choreographed swagger. He couldn't help but smile.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It was sort of surreal how the two of them walked down the streets of Shizume in silence. There weren’t any awkward conversations or shyness. You liked that. You also liked how Yata wasn't very tall because you could glance to your right and see the perfect profile of his face. Sure, he was taller than you, but not by much. This also made it easy for you to look around him at the busy atmosphere. Shizume City was bittersweet; it was a beautifully designed and architectural place, but was full of people.

The back of Yata's hand tapped twice against your arm, and you looked up at him. He was gesturing left, so you took the corner as instructed. You appreciated how he would gently redirect you. You appreciated how he didn't expect you to talk, or always answer him. You just appreciated him.

Soon enough, the two of you spotted Homra. Like he did on the first day you came here, he opened the door for you. Shooting him a smile, you saw that he was avoiding your gaze and looked flushed.

Not everyone was there, but Tatara sure was. He grinned upon seeing you and danced his way over. You lifted a hand to gently wave at him, and then moved to sit on the sofa. Yata was speaking with Tatara for a brief moment until they both turned to look at you. Your right hand rose to move the headphone off of your right ear.

"Huh?" You murmured.

"...Good enough," Tatara snickered and nudged Yata, who was a blushing cherry.

_Oh yeah, he was supposed to carry me in here. Tatara probably saw me wearing his headphones and he mine. Boys._

Your eyes rolled as you pulled Yata's phone out of your back pocket. It didn't have a lock on it, which was convenient. [E/c] glanced up to meet hazel. You saw shyness in his eyes, but he didn't stop you when you decided to go through the music he had on it. It surprised you. Yata had quite a few rappers, but he also had some punk rock. Snickering, you decided to change the song to one of the punk bands.

_I wonder what he thought of my music._

 

 

~*~

 

 

It had been two hours until the rest of the gang returned. Apparently, they had some business to deal with. They called them 'The Blues,' and they caught one of them speaking to one of their members. Everyone was being completely discrete about everything; nobody said any names. Yata had long since plopped onto a stool a few seats away, looking irritated.

_Looks like I'm not the only one who's confused._

Swiveling around on your bar stool, you watched the members of Homra talk.

"Yeah, I get that you guys want to keep me out of trouble, but why are you keeping me totally in the dark?" He huffed and mumbled a quiet, "It's annoying."

"It's just best that you don't know for now, Yata." Rikio Kamamoto gave his shoulder a small pat.

"What does that even mean!? Why can't I know now? It's not like I'll start anything!"

"Yes, Yata, you will." Izumo interjected. He sighed and leaned against the bar right in front of you, giving you a concerned look. "You should keep an eye on him," he whispered only loud enough for your ears to hear.

_What does he mean?_

"Yata, just listen to us," Mikoto sighed. Anna was sitting on his lap on the sofa, sipping a glass of sprite. When she saw you glance at her, she gave you a small, faintly visible smile.

Grumbling loudly, Yata rose and snatched his skateboard off of the floor. He stomped towards the exit, and then paused.

"You guys suck. I'm goin' to go find that damn Monkey."

He slammed Homra's door shut and everyone's eyes laid on you. "What?"

Sighing, Tatara gave you a forgiving look. He swooped over to sit next to you, and shake his head. "Fushimi left us for the Blues, [Name]."

_**What?** _

"Fushimi...As in the tall, glasses, Yata-teasing boy?"

Tatara nodded with another sigh. "We don't know why. We were just there to request to speak with him, but he doesn't want anything to do with us."

_But Fushimi was Yata's best friend. Why would he do that?_

"Didn't they join Homra together?" You whispered. Without realizing it, your hand was squeezing at Yata's headphones. Anxiety had formed a knot deep within your stomach and it seemed comfortable there; because it didn't go away.

"Yes," Mikoto sighed with a shake of his head. He gently picked Anna up and placed her on the ground while he stood up. "I'm going to run an errand," he announced. And when he left, Anna came trotting over to you.

"Hi sweetie," you smiled down at her.

"You need to protect him," she murmured. 

"Protect Yata?"

Her hand reached up to grab onto your hoodie sleeve. "He doesn't know it, but he needs you." Anna's eyes looked up at you as if she saw all of your secrets, and was delving into your soul.

"But I'm not even a member of Homra--"

Anna tugged on your sleeve and shook her head. 

Sighing, you gently stood to your feet and gave Anna's head a little pat. "Alright."

"Here," Tatara smiled. He approached you with a pen and grabbed your hand, writing a number down on it. "He still has my phone, right? Call him."

You waved at everyone else that remained in the bar and headed out. Once you were outside, that anxiety started to pang harder in your stomach. You pulled out Yata's phone and dialed Tatara's number that was smudged with black ink on your left hand.

_Hopefully he answers..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in a day! Hope you enjoyed reading.


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fushimi betrays Yata. Luckily, he has you to lean on.

Lots of thoughts were racing in your mind. You couldn't help but feel angry at Fushimi. Sure, there might have been a logical explanation for his actions, but the fact that he didn't tell anyone made you livid. If what Tatara said was true; then Fushimi was a traitor. You aren't even a member of Homra and you feel the betrayal gnawing at your heart like a ravished wolf. Knowing how Yata is, you knew he wasn't going to take this very well.

Anxiety overwhelmed your senses. You were pacing in front of Homra, hoping to reach that hot-head with his phone pressed against your ear. With each ring and following pause, your anxiety deepened. Biting at your lip, you waited. Four rings; pause. Five rings; pause.

_Come on, Yata...please._

A scuffled scratching sound was heard, and then silence for a few moments.

"Uh, hi?"

"Yata!" You beamed, a relaxing smile forming on your pink lips.

"W-Whoa what is it? Why are--"

"Where are you?"

There was another pause. The thought of imagining how Yata looked right now made your stomach flip. He's probably flustered and at a loss for words.

"Um..." Wind blew through the phone. "I'm uh-- Just down the street f-from Homra, trying to find Monkey." He paused and if you strained your ears, you swear you heard him grumble. "Why?"

That was a question you weren't prepared for. How could you make it seem like you just wanted to make sure he was okay? It was your turn to bite at your lip and initiate silence. _I could lie, right? People lie all the time. He won't find out. I'm sure it will be easy; just come up with something. Anything! Like, you wanted to switch phones again. Okay, that's a lame excuse._

_"Hello?"_ He seemed annoyed.

Your left shoe kicked at a small pebble on the pavement. "I was just," you paused. _Think, [Name]. Oh!_ "I wanted to come too." Sighing quietly in relief, you hoped he didn't catch your white lie. Well, it wasn't exactly a lie.

"Um, okay?" Yata's voice squeaked and you heard him gulp over the phone.

_What a dork._

"So where are you?"

"T-Take a few lefts when you um...exit Homra," he murmured shyly.

"Okay!" You hung up so he wouldn't have to awkwardly say goodbye.

As you made your way down the empty alleyways, you pulled the sleeves of your hoodie over your hands. Nervous, you took another left and hoped Yata would be somewhere nearby. Walking around Shizume alone in particularly spooky alleyways wasn't something you wanted to necessarily do. Sure, the city was beautiful in its own way; however, there were dark places where criminals lurked. Amusing yourself, your thoughts instantly went to Homra; wondering if they were the criminals, or if they fought the criminals. A smile crept onto your face. Seeing Tatara as the 'bad guy' made you giggle.

_They're all too goofy to be real criminals._

After walking a few blocks in silence, apart from your thoughts, you turned another corner. You heard muffled voices and decided to sneak up to the corner of the alleyway you were in. Eavesdropping, you pressed your back against the stone wall. It was Yata's voice, and he didn't sound particularly enthused.

"You _bastard!_ You did what!?"

"You heard me, Yata." A pause. "I said I went and joined Scepter 4."

"You betrayed us! Why, Fushimi!" A scuff on the ground. "Why? That doesn't make sense. Why join up with the Blues of all people!?"

Another pause. You felt guilty for eavesdropping, now. You should've found Yata and told him before he found Fushimi. This was the worst way to find out.

Yata growled. "Did you forget this mark? The symbol of our true pride. We've sworn our loyalty to Homra with this," his voice sounded exhausted; defeated.

You gulped as Fushimi paused to answer. "Loyalty?" A spark was heard, and an audible gasp from Yata.

Fushimi's voice was that of a snake. "See, _Misaki?_ I just wiped out my true pride in Homra. It's all gone." He snickered like a villain. "I'm sorry if you think I betrayed you, but I need to go in a different direction."

_A different direction? Who does he think he is! He can't just--_

"I want to use my special power to engage in something other than playing games with gang bangers," Fushimi hissed with an amused lilt to his voice. "I'm sick to death of being a punk from Homra."

Yata seethed. "Nice. This is your gratitude to the man who took you in off the streets?" You could feel his growing hatred. He was livid. Yata's voice was fierce and spoken through gritted teeth, "How dare you disrespect him!"

Fushimi snickered insanely again, and you felt your hands shake at your sides. "I know but I must move on!" Another evil snicker. "I don't want to waste my life playing the fool. I want to be somebody who's important.

_Important? What does he even mean? Wasn't he important to Homra?_

"You think you're better than us!? Fuck you!" Another scuff on the ground. Yata was probably itching to punch him in the face. "One day, I'm gonna kill you."

There it is. Yata's emotion. There was a metaphorical rock sitting in your stomach. Anxiety continued to pang in your chest.

Fushimi sneered, "One day." You heard him slither away, and your back slid against the brick wall until you were sitting against it. Yata was grumbling and jabbed a fist into the brick wall; kicking everything in his path. You felt for him.

After some strings of very vulgar words, you heard him sigh. "Fuck."

Naturally, your hands reached up to cover your face. You sat there; contemplating it all. Pondering about the outcome. Thinking hard about how to comfort Yata. He wasn't the easiest to approach; especially since you're a girl. You knew Yata wouldn't be open to accepting your help, but you had to try. Somehow.

Removing your hands from your face, you sighed in frustration. Your eyes were still closed; silently you hoped everything would just disappear. Of course, things don't work that way. The little light that was shining on your face dissipated. Slowly, your eyes opened to see someone looming over you. Of course, it was Yata.

He was looking down at you with a frown. The emotions he was feeling leaked through his eyes. Exhaustion, pain, and guilt. There was one emotion that was stronger than the rest, though. Despair.

A shaky, bloodied hand was reached down for you. Cautiously, you took it. Yata pulled you to your feet and grumbled some words you didn't catch.

"Your hand--"

"Forget it," he growled.

Rolling your eyes at him, you put your hands on your hips. "No."

He looked surprised. Then exhaustion rolled over his features. "It's whatever," he grumbled.

_"No."_

He looked at you. He really, really peered deeply at you, and then argued. _"Yes."_

"No!"

"YES!" The irritation was clearly evident in his voice, but you didn't care.

"Yata--"

"Just stop, okay!?" His aura melted into a dark rouge as flames permeated around his frame. It was frightening, but you didn't back down. He saw the pout on your face and growled again, turning to leave. But you were much quicker.

Your hand grabbed at his wrist tightly. "We need to fix your hand up," you whispered. He didn't turn to face you, so you pulled on him. When he did, he looked devastated. There wasn't his usual playful, shy, or idiotic look in his eyes. There was only betrayal; despair. It burned a hole through your heart.

"I...need to go," he mumbled.

"I'll come too." He finally glanced back over to you. You tried to smile, but couldn't find the strength.

Groaning quietly, he agreed silently. Your hand was still wrapped around his wrist, but you could tell he was too mixed up to care or even notice. Yata slowly lead the two of you away from the betrayal scene. Once you felt comfortable that he wasn't going to try to leave, you released his wrist. Yata glanced over at you, but said nothing about it.

It was odd; feeling second-hand despair. You wished with everything you had that dreary clouds would spontaneously appear and release a dark rain upon Shizume. Because seeing the bright clear sky made you irritable. It wasn't fair that the world would continue to move on, but that's how it was. Accepting the fact that things would get better overtime was impossible. The way you felt for Yata hurt.

It made it worse to think about how bad he was actually feeling. If you hurt this bad, Yata's pain was at least a million times worse. Which didn't actually make sense for you to feel for him, because a few days ago; you thought Yata hated you. Apparently, he tolerates you. And you were okay with that. You remember Izumo explaining that Yata wasn't particularly good with 'the ladies.' It was understandable, but you were definitely not like most girls. Which is probably why he tolerated you.

However, something deep inside your heart told you that he enjoyed your company.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you had come to the realization that the two of you were headed towards Homra.

"Wait," you started.

Sensing your worry, Yata rolled his eyes. "Chill out, I'm not goin' to stay in there. I just needed to grab my board."

The fact that his voice was so _lacking_ made you feel worse. But you obeyed. You didn't hold him back when he opened the door to the bar. Luckily, there weren't a lot of people inside. This calmed your nerves a bit. Izumo was polishing a glass over at the bar, and Kamamoto was seated there too. They turned to look at you, then noticed Yata. They exchanged a quick glance and Izumo sighed.

"Mikoto and the others left to finish some business with lackeys. Don't think they'll be back soon," Izumo attempted to smile.

Yata grumbled, "Yeah, yeah. Whatever, I'm gonna be out for awhile too."

You had decided to take a seat on the sofa and pick at your chipped nail polish. Gnawing on your bottom lip was the only comfort you could think of. Lost in your thoughts, you completely zoned out. _It didn't make any sense. Part of me wants answers, but I know I won't get any. It's not like it's my business, either. Fushimi and I weren't exactly 'friends.' The rest of Homra likes me, but Yata and Fushimi were...indifferent towards me. I doubt Yata wants my comfort even now; now that he doesn't have anyone._

A hand slapped your right shoulder, making you jump with a squeak.

"You comin' or what?" Yata's voice was monotone and scratchy.

Giving him a curt nod, you stood back to your feet. A black object caught your eye and you grabbed it without a second thought. Before the two of you exited Homra, you turned to wave at the men in the bar. They gave you a smile, and you gave a promising one back. Your mind was already made up.

You were going to help Yata.

 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

Yata's mind was twisted and tumbling over each thought that entered it. The scowl on his face was intensified with his furrowed brows. His arm was hooked around his skateboard, hands dug deeply in his pockets. Thankfully, [Name] wasn't trying to make awkward conversation. Neither was he. It was nice; she just kept to herself. Her beautiful [e/c] eyes would glance up at him every now and then, but she didn't press anything.

He could tell that [Name] was genuine. That she didn't care about the pointless things most girls did. She continuously tried to befriend Yata. Her teasing made it easy to like her. Yata enjoyed her company, even if he'd never admit it out loud.

The two of them were walking around the City, not exactly sure of their destination. [Name] was to the left, and a little behind Yata. He liked that. He felt like he could lead the way, and that she trusted his direction of choice. And Yata felt in charge; protective and even a little _possessive_. He didn't realize it at the time, though.

They had reached a quieter part of Shizume. There were only a few people around.  A rumble was heard that echoed and bounced off of the mostly empty streets. Yata's eyes finally looked over at [Name]. She had flushed cheeks with her arms encircling her stomach.

"Mm?" She hummed in question at his curious glance.

His hand lifted out of his left pocket to jab a thumb over his shoulder. "You wanna grab some grub?"

Surprised, she blinked and remained quiet for a few more moments. "It's fine."

"Why are you so damn _difficult_? God." Yata grumbled and turned on his heels. "I'm hungry, too."

When he realized that she was just standing there and not following him like he had hoped, he rolled his eyes. "Dammit, there's a noodle shop like right there. I'll pay this time," he offered with a huff.

"Okay," she murmured and quickly caught up to him.

 

 

~*~

 

 

After a painfully long waiting time, they were finally seated inside at the noodle bar. Yata saw her face light up when she was reading the menu. For some reason, seeing that made his head spin. It took her awhile to finally pick something; which he didn't understand because he went over all of the good stuff this place had. She finally settled to try the shrimp yakisoba, so he ordered two servings.

Yata appreciated that [Name] didn't attempt to talk unless necessary. There wasn't any pointless conversation between the two.  He enjoyed being able to sneak glances at her.

After a few minutes, the same Japanese server returned.

_That was quick._

The man had a small china bowl in his hand. "Miso soup; from an admirer," he beamed at [Name].

_Oh. Oh **hell** no._

Yata stood up, pushing his stool somewhere behind him. His hands pressed against the top of the counter, nails scratching the surface. Hazel eyes scanned the small restaurant with a glare. "Who in the _hell_ \--"

A hand was placed on his forearm. "It's fine," [Name] insisted.

_No. It's not._

Burning hazel eyes spotted a man glancing over his shoulder at them. In an instant, Yata was storming over to him. He grabbed the guy by the collar of his shirt, pulling him up out of his seat. Growling, Yata's grip tightened.

"Look, guy, I'm already in a foul mood. You better stop flirting with my friend over there or else we'll have a problem." Yata gritted his teeth. "You got that?"

Mortified, the guy raised his hands and waved them dismissively. "W-Whoa d-dude cut it out!"

Snarling loudly at the man, Yata sneered. "You don't get it, do you?"

Gasping, the man widened his eyes. "Y-Y-You're from H-Homra!"

"Yes, I am. So quit your shit," he growled.

"S-Sorry dude! I didn't know s-she was with you!" The guy was trembling in Yata's grip.

_"With me?_ What the hell, man!" He held the poor guy up in the air. He couldn't have been older than seventeen. "She's not _with_ me, but I'm gettin' pissed."

"S-She was cute, okay? I-I..."

Something deep inside of Yata Misaki snapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dialogue between Fushimi and Yata was taken directly out of episode 10. I don't own any of it!
> 
> A lot happens during this chapter. Yakisoba are wheat noodles, by the way.   
> I hope you enjoyed reading another chapter to my first fanfic. :)


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yata punched a wall upon seeing Fushimi's betrayal. Now, he punched a guy in a noodle shop. It's your job to fix him up; the stubborn idiot making it slightly difficult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter starts in Yata's point of view.  
> Notes:  
> [e/c]=eye color  
> [h/c]=hair color

Something deep inside of Yata Misaki snapped.

Those familiar flames sparked and started radiating around his frame. A ball of rouge fire encircled his fist. Growling, the teen dropped the guy before landing a painful blow to his nose. The younger teen yelped and fell to his knees, holding his gushing nose.

“Leave her alone,” Yata spat with fury.

“Leave _him_ alone!” [Name]’s petite arms were wrapped around Yata’s form; squeezing at him and tugging him away. Her nails dug into his shirt.

_Fuck._

The side of her face was pressed into Yata’s back. He didn’t really have much of a choice. Grumbling and turning his face away from the poor guy on the floor, he attempted to hide the blush that heated his face.

“Let go,” he mumbled. And she obeyed.

Unfortunately, the owner of the shop started yelling at them and ordered them to leave. He grabbed his skateboard and lead [Name] out of the shop in a storming rage. Once they were out, she gave him a warning glare.

“What?”

“What’s wrong with you?”

_What’s wrong with me?_

“That guy was h-hitting on you!”

“So?”

_So!?_

“He deserved it,” he shrugged.

“You’re stupid,” she mumbled.

“How does that make me stupid? You’re totally okay with some random ass guy flirting with you!?”

“You’re not?”

_Shit._

“I-I didn’t say that!” Yata started biting at his lower lip as his blush increased.

“Well you sure act like it,” she rolled her eyes.

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“I mean people who aren’t friends don’t do stuff like that.” [Name] was murmuring shyly with her hands fumbling with the bottom of her hoodie.

“W-Who said we aren’t friends!?” Yata squirmed.

“You did.”

_Fuck. She heard that?_

_~*~_

_“[Name] seems to like spending time with Homra. Have you talked to her yet, Yata?” Izumo smiled._

_Yata grumbled. “No. Why would I?”_

_He started twirling his glass of soda, watching the ice cubes swirl. The only reason he was in Homra alone with Izumo was because Mikoto insisted that he sat out on this next errand. Because **apparently** the last time he joined them, he took everything too far by beating someone unconscious._

_He was bored._

_“You’re friends, right?”_

_“W-What!?” There was no way Yata would see the light of tomorrow if everyone in Homra knew that he befriended a girl. Fushimi was already giving him shit and it was the second day they met her. Yata felt cursed; everyone always teased him about girls but now that there is one that he could possibly talk to, they’re teasing him even more._

_“No way.”_

_He hated it._

_Little did he know, [Name] had cracked the door to the bar open and was listening to the entire conversation._

_~*~_

“T-That was…different! I di-didn’t—“

“Whatever,” she shrugged.

“I didn’t m-mean that,” he flushed and avoided her gaze.

She peered at him. Squinting her eyes in suspicion, she shrugged again. “You’re still stupid.”

“Huh?” Yata rolled his eyes.

Her hand gestured at his. “Now your hand is worse. We _really_ need to fix it up, now.”

Yata gazed down at his hand, observing it closely. It was gross; dried blood was crusted on the surface of his knuckles and it was already bruising. Wet blood dripped down to the tips of his fingers. Cringing, he gave [Name] a nod.

“Fine."

Yata lead the way; his blush decreasing overtime as he was  _finally_ able to avoid [Name]'s gaze. He felt exposed around her; like she could open those beautifully shaped, [e/c], sparkling eyes and read into his soul. The way her lashes fluttered with every blink sent thousands of butterflies to cluster inside of his stomach. With every curious, concerned, intrigued, or even just _friendly_ glance; Yata swore she could read all of his secrets like he was an open book. It was some sort of magic. Witchery. Typically with girls, he'd feel frightened and run the other direction. However, with [Name] he feels exhilarated; as if he needs more of her. More of that giggle, that grin, those eyes, and _her voice._

As he was getting lost in his thoughts, he felt his face heat up again. Grumbling, he reached up to run a hand through his chestnut locks of hair. It felt unnatural to not be wearing his beanie; but Tatara had taken it when he was 'supposed' to go find [Name]. Absentmindedly, he tangled his fingers into the auburn tresses that fell around the back of his neck; tugging on them in frustration.

[Name] had taken to walking slightly behind him with her hands in her back pockets. And when Yata glanced back at her, he wished he hadn't.

Her [h/c] locks were slightly blowing in the spring wind. The way her eyes sparkled made Yata think of stars. Her face was simple but it was shrouded in a veil of beauty that he couldn't ignore. His breath hitched in his throat. Thankfully, she didn't say anything about it. 

They had passed Homra awhile ago, and Yata was grateful that she didn't question him. She probably understood that he couldn't face the members of Homra right now. And he couldn't; with bloodied knuckles and despair written all along his features, they would eat him right up. Teases, apologies, jokes, and even _puns_ were all Yata would find at that bar. He knew that he was supposed to be Homra's vanguard. To be strong, willful, unbreakable. He just couldn't do it right now. It was eating away at his insides. Anxiety started to ravish his stomach. 

He _hated_ it.

They had finally reached his apartment block, and he was filled with relief. The only conversations that [Name] attempted were genuine. She'd ask about certain shops as they passed them, claiming she never knew that Shizume was this full of life. Yata liked that she didn't pry or attempt at some sort of apologetic spiel. 

When he crouched to grab his apartment key from underneath the doormat, he heard a snort come from behind him. Standing up, he glanced over at [Name] with a scowl twisting his face. 

"What is it now?"

She was covering her mouth with her hand, attempting to bite back a giggle. "Nothing, it's just..." She snorted and erupted into a string of quiet giggles. "That's so cliché. Everyone knows not to hide their key under the mat. That's just asking for a break in," she smirked.

"W-Whatever, it's not like I have anythin' good in here anyways," he retorted with a blush.

The two of them entered the studio apartment. [Name] kept quiet, and that was perfectly okay. He threw his key onto the kitchen counter and leaned against the doorway. She cleared her throat, giving him a questionable look. Reading her thoughts, he gestured underneath the sink. She crouched and looked into the cupboard, grabbing a small first-aid kit. Yata had turned to go plop himself on the couch; but he froze when a hand grabbed at his.

Yelping, he jumped and coddled his injured hand, giving [Name] a glare.

"Alright, alright, sorry. Don't go anywhere; we gotta clean it up," she murmured apologetically. Her petite hand raised to point over at the sink and Yata caught the hint.

Mumbling inaudible words, he shuffled over towards the sink and stuck his hand underneath the running tap. Gritting his teeth, he scowled.

"This hurts," he whined.

"Well, yeah. It's gonna. Use warmer water," she instructed.

Obeying, he adjusted the temperature and started gently prodding at his bruising knuckles. [Name] handed him a wash cloth, so he started gently scrubbing the dried blood away. His hazel eyes traveled away from his hand and over at her petite frame, observing her in silence.

She was rummaging through the first-aid kit, gently pulling certain things out when she found them. She had gathered ointment, gauze, and surgical tape. Her lips pinched to the side and she quickly turned to face him. Her face lit up in amusement when she caught him staring.

Flushing, he parted his lips to make an excuse, but she spoke first.

"Where's your rubbing alcohol?"

Yata's head nodded in the direction of a small closet and she started skipping over towards it. Returning with it and a few cotton balls, she gave him a reassuring smile.

He grumbled loudly. "Fuck. That's gonna sting."

"Don't punch a wall and then some innocent guy in a noodle shop, then."

He squinted his eyes at her, silently arguing.

"Are you almost done?"

Hazel parted with [e/c] as he gazed down at his hands. 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Your elbows were resting on the counter top with your head resting gently in your hands. Patiently, you waited as Yata took his time with rinsing his hand. Your gaze was fixated on the water circling down the drain; it faded pink and red at times as the blood was being washed away. Suddenly, the tap was turned off. Boyish hands gripped the edge of the sink until the knuckles turned white. Deciding on acting, you opened the rubbing alcohol and started blotting it on a cotton ball. Slowly, as if not to frighten him, you slipped around from his left side onto his right. Then, your hand was raised to gingerly rest on his wrist.

As you dabbed the alcohol along his knuckles, you sneaked a glance up at him. He winced at first, but didn't move. Yata had that devastating emotion in his eyes; that despair. Frowning, you decided it'd be best not to stare at him and make him feel uncomfortable.

"You know," he started with a rasping voice, "we were just kids when we joined Homra." He cleared his throat. "Back when we were in school, we were inseparable. Always causin' trouble. There wasn't ever a time we actually were seated next to each other. The teacher knew we were up to no good." 

When he paused, you looked up at him. His eyes were closed; a peaceful glow warmed the features of his face. Your hand tugged at his wrist, and he released his grip on the sink; allowing you to gently hold his hand in front of you. Your fingers pinched at the cotton ball and started turning his hand around, making sure you got between each of his fingers.

"We met Mikoto on the street. He was the harbinger of our freedom," Yata's voice trembled. "Mikoto saved us. Gave us a purpose."

You finished cleaning his bruises and minor cuts and decided to move on. Placing his hand on the counter, you slid back around to his left side to grab the ointment cream and some gauze. 

"Homra was our _home."_

Your body slid around to his right side again, reaching for his hand. Surprisingly, you felt Yata's fingers slowly curl around yours. But you didn't say anything about it.

"We were welcomed with open arms. Everyone agreed to our stay," he murmured in defeat.

As you started to apply the cream onto his small wounds, you felt his fingers tighten around yours. 

"Saru was with me wherever I went. He was _my_ vanguard."

His voice shook, his words murmured quieter as they tumbled out of his lips. His frame started shaking and you could tell he was fighting tears. Once you had the ointment spread evenly, you grabbed some gauze and started placing it where you thought was best. 

"I don't...I don't know what happened," he whispered.

You started wrapping his hand.

"I-It was my fault, r-right?"

Yata's head craned and he breathed deeply. Closing his eyes, he exhaled. Then he hung his head, making sure he was out of your line of sight. You reached for the surgical tape and secured your delicate work.

"He was my best friend," Yata wept.

Your heart felt like it shattered. Sure, you didn't know him all that well, but you've had your fair share of heartbreaks. Friendship heartbreaks are worse; especially Yata's. You could feel his pain.

Frowning, you placed a hand on his arm. "It wasn't your fault. Fushimi was wrong," you attempted to reassure him.

"Yeah, I know." Yata gritted his teeth and growled quietly. "Fucking bastard. Makin' me _cry._ In front of a _girl."_

"I'm here for you, Yata."

He slowly started to turn towards you. The teen mumbled some stuff you didn't catch, but you did hear a quiet, "Can I just..."

Then, as if time itself slowed, he started shuffling closer. His arms were brought up at a snail's pace. You swear you heard him curse underneath his breath, but he didn't back down in spite of his doubts. His arms were coiled around your frame, lightly, as if he was afraid of squishing you. So you reached your arms around his torso and held him tightly.

Yata's breath hitched in his throat, and he held it for a few seconds before relaxing. His arms inched tighter with every second until he was flat out squeezing you. He lowered his face and buried it into your neck.

"It's alright," you cooed quietly as he started sobbing. You felt his fingers grasp at the fabric of your hoodie. His breathing was erratic; shoulders shaking with each sharp intake of air.

Yata was _broken._

He was falling apart in your arms, of all people. He chose to break down in front of you.

"I'm here," you whispered.

After a few minutes, he seemed to calm down. There wasn't any more sobbing, just quiet sniffling. But Yata didn't release you; he held onto you like you were about to float away. His grip was still firm. You started to sway from side to side, and he seemed to like that because the sniffles stopped shortly after. 

"Better?"

He hummed quietly in agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Viola! I hope you enjoyed reading another chapter of my first fic. 
> 
> Sorry I haven't posted recently; I've actually injured my hand on a glass cup. It's difficult for me to type but I'm stubborn. xD Ironic because of Yata's injured hand in the chapter...oh well~ Thanks for reading. :3


	6. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You end up spending the rest of the day with Yata. He hits you with a statement that you weren't quite sure how to reply to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter starts in your point of view.  
> Notes:  
> [h/c]=hair color

The two of you remained in his kitchen for awhile. You talked about anything and everything, but mostly Fushimi and Homra. You had positioned yourself to sit on the counter while Yata rested against the doorway. When it was quiet between the two of you, your gaze found itself traveling along the apartment. It was small, but perfect for the two that lived in it. Well, the two that previously shared it. A lot of Fushimi's stuff was still inside. Yata's gaze followed yours and when he noticed all of the things his ex-best friend left behind, he scowled in disappointment. 

"Bastard," he mumbled half to himself. 

The teen adjusted his weight so he could make his way over to the bedroom. He poked his head in the doorway and growled. The door was slammed shut and Fushimi's memory was temporarily forgotten.

"It doesn't even look like he came back to take any of his shit with him," Yata grumbled.

You watched as he raised his good hand to run it through his auburn locks. Smirking, you had an idea.

"Hey," you started. Hazel eyes darted toward you almost too quickly. "Come here for a sec."

The innocent smile that was plastered to your face was probably the only reason he obeyed. But he did so cautiously; almost too slowly.

"What is it?"

_Was that a trace of worry in those hazel eyes?_

"Just come here," you giggled like it was nothing.

Little did Yata know, you were a scheming mastermind.

When he was a couple feet away from you, your hand gestured for him to come even closer. The teen's discomfort was written all over his features. Yata coddled his hand protectively as he slowly closed the gap between the two of you. He had long since taken his shoes off, so he slid in his socks curiously across the wooden floor. With each tiny step, he paused and looked you over. The bridge of his nose flushed the same color as his cheeks. 

"What?"

He still wasn't within arms reach. _"Closer,"_ you giggled again.

"C'mon, [Name] I'm not in the mood for this shit." Yata growled and avoided your gaze but was still inching towards you. 

And finally; when he was a bit closer than arms-length away, you grinned. Yata had this look of curiosity on his face, but he wouldn't keep eye contact with you. That was fine. He had no idea of your direct motive, and that probably made him feel vulnerable. But that was fine, too.

Quickly, you reached into your hoodie pocket and grabbed a certainly familiar, soft-fabric, black object and reached out towards the flustered teen. His eyes screwed shut as he winced, clearly expecting the worst. But all you did was gently slide the black beanie onto his messy hair. You tugged at the sides until they were even, and you had even brushed a few locks of hair out of his face. When you rested your hands on his lean shoulders, you were surprised to see that he opened his eyes. _(And surprised that his shoulders weren't very lean at all; they had definite muscle volume to them.)_

Yata was just _staring_ at you.

You smiled back.

_Now you're almost back to your normal self._

And for once, you didn't feel shy. There wasn't anything bashful about what you had just done. It felt natural to you; like you had been friends for a long time. There wasn't any _need_ to feel shy. Normally, you never would've reached out to touch another person like that unless they were your long-time friends. Yata was somehow very different. It was soothing in a mysterious way.

When you realized that you heard an audible gasp from the teen, you suddenly felt nervous and the need to explain yourself somehow.

"There! That's the Yata I've been looking for." He gulped, completely lost. "He was hiding right in front of me!"

Your attempt at a comical explanation was lame, and you knew it. But he smiled, and even snorted a little.

"Shut up," he grumbled playfully. "Where did you even get this?"

His hand reached up to adjust his hair that framed his face and you took that as an opportunity to casually take your hands away from his shoulders.

"It was on the jukebox in the bar. I grabbed it before we left, I just hadn't found the right time to give it to you until now," you explained honestly.

The teen hummed quietly for a few moments. Then, he screwed his eyes shut and grinned.

"Thanks," Yata beamed.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It was sort of amusing how Yata felt comfortable around her. Especially since earlier that day, he had the hardest time talking to her. Now, he was able to express himself freely. The two shared plenty of giggles as the time went by. They had talked in the kitchen for awhile, but then they were hungry. Since Yata had basically ruined their experience at the noodle shop and got themselves kicked out, he offered to cook up some fried rice. [Name] had no idea that Yata was a culinary artist; so to say she was surprised would be an understatement.

"Why is everyone always surprised!?" Yata had said. 

He remembered the first time he cooked for the members of Homra; they were all flabbergasted. Nobody that wasn't there to see the young teen cook up the fried rice believed that he had actually made it. Everyone else felt ashamed for ever teasing him about cooking. Yata's pride grew that day.

Once the two had finished eating (quite a lot of rice because it turned out better than he had imagined), they had moved to sit in the living room and watch the TV. Even though they weren't even really watching it. They talked through every program or show, and Yata couldn't exactly decide on what to watch anyways. He was too caught up in enjoying his time with [Name]. Growing bored rather quickly, he stood up and crept into the kitchen, leaving [Name] on the couch. She had turned to watch him with a curious look in her eye, but didn't say anything.

He could feel her eyes burning into his skin, but he didn't say anything either. Yata's hands curled underneath the white fabric of his sweatshirt as he lifted it up and over his head. The sweatshirt was thrown onto the counter so he could freely open a cupboard and peer inside. He started straightening his black tank when he heard a muffled squeal echo from the living room. A smile curved his lips.

When Yata returned, he held up a box of fruit snacks looking mischievous. 

"How about we--"

He was interrupted as a small couch pillow smacked into his face. [Name] reached up to cover her mouth, her eyes wide.

Snickering, she proudly cheered, "A direct hit!"

The flustered teen growled whilst crouching to grab the pillow and chuck it back at her.

He missed.

Obnoxiously, she started giggling until tears sparkled in her eyes. [Name] had fallen over on her back, still giggling. Yata had stomped over to the couch, leaning over her as she continued to snicker to herself. He glared as hard as he could, but he couldn't hold back his own laughter.

Speaking between chuckles, Yata attempted a comeback. "Okay, look. I...threw it with my left hand." He snorted, still laughing. "Fuckin' stop it, you're making me feel insecure!"

[Name]'s arms clutched at her stomach. She wheezed for air, gasping loudly. "Oh god, i-it hurts. I c-can't stop laughing," her voice was weak and trembling with giggles.

"Dammit I said stop it!" Yata reached over and grabbed a different pillow and whacked her with it. 

After they had calmed down, he plopped himself on the opposite end of the small sofa and opened the box of fruit snacks. He looked over at her, and god, he wish he hadn't.

The younger teen was on her knees, facing Yata with a grin on her face. Her cheeks were flushed from all of the laughter, and there were still tears in her eyes. Gentle hands reached up to rub at her eyes, a few chuckles escaping her every couple of seconds. [Name]'s luxurious [h/c] locks were messy from rolling around on the couch in her fit of laughter. She looked as if she had just woken up from a beauty sleep.

_That smile. Oh my **god.**_

When she had finally calmed down, she noticed Yata was staring at her in awe. His mouth gaped and his face flushed, but he was leaning toward her like she was the most intriguing thing he'd ever seen. Probably because she was.

"What?" She poked his shoulder, startling him.

"A-Ah! Uh...mm--" 

_Shit._

"Um. So I-I was thinkin' w-we could," he paused and cleared his throat, attempting to clear his head too. "We could eat these but l-like, throw them at each other. And catch them."

She nodded enthusiastically. "Okay," she threw him another one of those smiles. One of those smiles that could manipulate him in a heartbeat.

After he had handed her a few packs, he saw that she looked particularly _amused._ Before he could ponder aloud, she spoke.

"I didn't know you liked _dinosaur_ fruit snacks."

[Name] had started giggling again. Yata's world started to spin.

 

~*~

 

The previously innocent game they had come up with turned into an evil daring contest. Instead of throwing the fruit snacks into the others' mouth, it had turned into a game of eating the fruit snack off of various surfaces that probably weren't sanitary. She was way more daring than he expected, considering she was able to do each of the dares he put on her. Now they were standing in the doorway of the bathroom. [Name] was peering over Yata's shoulder. He was facing her with his arms crossed; a devilish smirk twisting his features.

"I dare you to eat this one off of the toilet seat," he spoke coyly. 

"No way," she scrunched her nose.

"Come on! You made me eat one off of Monkey's old sock! That was damn disgusting."

[Name] folded her arms and shook her head. "That's what you get for stripping in front of me."

Yata's face instantly flushed. "I-I didn't s-strip!"

She giggled. "Yes, you did. In the kitchen."

"I-I got hot wearin' that sweatshirt!"

She shrugged and turned to leave. Yata grabbed at her sleeve. "Do it!"

"Yata!"

He leaned down until his face was on eye level with hers. "Chicken," he spat with a grin.

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Why don't _you_ do it, then? If you're so bad ass or whatever," she giggled with a playful glare.

Yata squinted. "I ain't stupid."

[Name]'s eyes glared daggers as if to say, 'neither am I.' She flicked his arm and he winced, glaring right back. Then, she started to pout. When Yata didn't react, she turned around and huffed. When she noticed he _still_ didn't say anything, she plopped herself onto the ground. She did this tactically; because Yata couldn't leave the bathroom without her moving. He was trapped. And she was pouting adorably like she intended to get her way.

_Why does she always look so damn cute? It's not fair._

"H-hey," he began but she shook her head.

"Come on, move."

[Name] didn't budge. Not even when Yata's toes prodded into her back. After a few minutes, Yata's temper was growing short. He started grumbling, but she still didn't move.

"Stubborn little shit," he growled as he bent over. His good hand slipped underneath her knees while his injured hand curved around her stomach. He hoisted her up and into the air, toppling her small frame over his shoulder. She started to squeal and protest.

"H-Hey! Put me down or I swear to god-"

"Put you down?" Yata feigned dropping her and she scrambled to grab onto him as tight as she could. 

"S-S-Stop it," she squeaked.

There wasn't really much she could do; he was definitely stronger than her. She was currently upside down, too. Kicking her legs didn't amount to anything. Neither did scratching at his sides. He did laugh a little, though. Yata was ticklish, so he hoped to every god above that she wouldn't find out.

"Yataaa," [Name] sung with a soft, pleading voice.

Her hands grabbed at his shirt and gave it a tug.

"I promise to be good," she offered.

Yata hummed in thought. He was surprised to say the least. Here he was; actually holding a girl in his arms. Well, not on her own terms. It still kind of counted, right? Shaking his head, he shrugged and gently started to slide her back onto her toes. Much to his dismay, she was still grasping handfuls of his shirt. 

They were close; almost too close for comfort. [Name] noticed the intense blush that flooded his face so she went to move away. It was instinct what happened next. That was what Yata forced himself to believe. His arm snaked around her waist to hold her there; despite his deepening blush.

The smaller teen let a small gasp escape her as her grip on his shirt tightened. Yata swore that their faces were a matching shade of red, but he pretended not to notice. Quietly, he whispered down to her.

"Don't leave us like Saru did."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, writing that last little bit gave me butterflies.  
> Thanks for the views and kudos! 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading another chapter to this fic. c:


	7. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for you to ask Mikoto about joining Homra. He surprises you with his answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is completely in your perspective. There's a lot of Mikoto in this chapter!  
> Notes:  
> [h/c]=hair color  
> [e/c]=eye color

There was something extravagantly surreal about the way Yata's battered, bruised, and bandaged hand curved around your waist. You could feel the sincerity radiating from his calloused fingertips onto your skin; even through the thick fabric of your favorite hoodie. The way his thumb prodded gently spoke urgency, but the way his eyes gazed shouted delicacy. Your gaze snapped onto his good hand, observing closely as he shakily debated its destination. It settled on the right side of your rib cage; its fingertips gingerly coiling around the feminine bones.

A wave of comfort tingled into your veins. Perhaps it was the way his face flushed and the way his eyes scanned yours. [E/c] burned into hazel; the trail blaze heating both of your cheeks. You could've sworn Yata's face was as dark as Mikoto's hair. Maybe that's why you allowed yourself to feel exhilarated. 

The next few words were spoken with such a sense of urgency, you had the worst time understanding that _yes,_ they were spoken from Yata.

"Don't leave us like Saru did," the teen murmured with a hint of sorrow.

Those hazel eyes intensified the emotion he was feeling. Everything was there; from delicate sincerity to devastating sorrow. You could only wonder about why he was worried about you leaving. At first, the thought of him using you as a crutch crossed your mind. It was immediately shut down; because you knew that Yata enjoyed the time the two of you had spent together. You knew because it was written among his features; visible through his eyes, felt through his gestures, and heard through his voice.

"I'm here to stay," your lips whispered as you audibly decided right then and there. In that moment, you knew that there was no returning to your hometown. Even if you were leaving everything you've ever known behind, it was inevitable. Sure, he didn't flat out ask you to join Homra; but it was certainly implied.

Those hazel eyes fluttered shut, and you heard a shaky exhale escape him. It was then that you realized he had been holding his breath as he awaited your answer. Then, you watched curiously as he bowed his head until your foreheads touched. The neurons in your back fired all at once as you felt his arm coil tighter around you until his injured hand was curved around your hip. His other arm copied the movement, squeezing your delicate form until it was brought flush against his. Yata was strong; you could feel it because this embrace alone was enough to compress your lungs.

A small hum escaped his lips. Even with your eyes closed, you could tell he was smiling.

 

~*~

 

You stood in front of the small mirror of your hotel room, silently lost in your thoughts. It had taken you an extra amount of effort to pick an outfit for the day. Consciously, you couldn't understand why. Subconsciously, you knew it was because of how afraid you were. You weren't sure how today would go; if Mikoto would accept you or if he wouldn't. Catching him alone was your primary objective, and even that seemed difficult to think about. He was always accompanied by one of the Homra members; usually Anna. Asking to join Homra with her there would be a definite yes because of how much the young girl adored you. 

But you wanted an answer from the King himself; an answer on his pure judgement. 

By the time you grabbed the key card to your room and locked it, you came to the realization that it was probably too cold to wear a T-shirt. Deciding on not going back and grabbing a jacket, because that'd waste time, you headed down the flight of stairs and towards Homra.

Surprisingly, the streets weren't as busy as they usually were. It made it easier to remember where you were and where your destination was. Arriving at the bar earlier than expected, you were surprised to see that only Mikoto and Izumo were inside. Perfect.

"Ah, [Name]! You're here early," Izumo smiled and moved to start making your usual mocktail.

Giving him a nod, you smiled eagerly. "I wanted to talk."

The two men exchanged a glance and peered at you expectantly. Mikoto had moved to stand next to the bar, crossing his arms. You couldn't help but wonder where Anna was.

"Is it about Yata?" Izumo slid a straw into your drink and handed it to you. Then, he grabbed a rag and started polishing his prized bar.

You shrugged, sipping on your mocktail quietly. "Sort of. He... well you already know he knows about Fushimi." You started swiveling side to side on your bar stool. "I spent the day with him," you finished with a smile.

Mikoto snorted and almost smiled. _Almost._ The other man paused and just _stared_ at you. Widening your eyes, you glanced between the two of them. 

"What?" Anxiously, you felt yourself tapping your foot on the wooden floor.

"Yata isn't the type to hang with a girl," Mikoto murmured half in amusement.

Izumo shook his head. "That is surprising."

"Well, maybe he was just upset about getting betrayed," you offered nervously.

They in unison shook their head and responded with a firm, "No." Mikoto shuffled over towards the sofa. When he sat down, he lifted his arms to rest on the back of the small couch and craned his neck. You watched as his eyes fluttered closed. 

_Maybe he's lost in thought._

Turning your attention back on Izumo, you attempted a smile. "We didn't do anything unusual. We just hung out at his place, and later he asked me to stay."

The look Izumo gave you was identical to the look Tatara gave you when he saw Yata's headphones around your ears. It was that, 'Oh I See What's Goin' On' type of look. Grumbling, you shoved your chin into the palm of your hand, pouting up at the senior Homra member.

"He's definitely grown," he mumbled to himself. "When were you planning on leaving Shizume?"

You gulped.

_This is it. I have to ask. Mikoto... What will you say? Will the other members agree to my new membership? What if they don't want a girl joining?_

Teeth grazed your lower lip as you thought. Luckily, Izumo was patiently smiling at you. Your lips parted to answer, but Mikoto spoke before you did.

"I'm going to see what the boys are up to," he rose from his spot on the sofa, turning to leave. His right hand lifted to wave while his left reached for the handle of the door.

"Ah, Mr. Mikoto!" You sprung out of your seat.

The tall King turned to peer over his shoulder at you. Amber eyes gazed into [e/c], almost delving into your soul. Your face flushed as you realized he was waiting for you to say something.

"Er, I-I'd like t-to join you if I could."

That left hand opened the bar door and he moved to stand in front of it, holding it open for you. "Just Mikoto is fine," he murmured.

Excitedly, you waved your goodbye at Izumo and followed the Red King out of his sanctuary. The two of you walked about three feet before he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket. He pinched one between his two fingers and lowered it down to you. Kindly, you shook your head.

"Oh. No thanks," a smile curved your lips. 

Humming quietly in response, he lifted the cigarette and placed it between his lips. When he snapped his fingers and lit the thing, you realized that you had completely forgotten about the flames and the power of Homra.

_Will I gain that kind of power, too?_

Thankfully, Mikoto's strides were slow so you weren't easily left behind. Yata tended to move quickly; probably because he was used to skateboarding all over the place. You slipped beside Mikoto, walking slowly and casually down the beautiful streets of Shizume. The fact that he didn't talk much calmed your nerves. It gave you time to think about just how you were planning on asking. From what you've heard, the Red King chose who joined and who didn't. Blatantly asking might insult him. Nervously, you ran a hand through your [h/c] locks. The only person you know of that wasn't chosen to join was Tatara; he was eager to follow Mikoto from the beginning. That's how he tells it, at least.

The two of you entered a small building that consisted of a giant stairwell. Just looking at it made your legs burn with exhaustion. But when Mikoto started to ascend, you obediently followed. That's when you decided to talk.

"Why does Anna adore me so much?" Your voice was quiet, but it still echoed throughout the stairwell.

Mikoto lazily shrugged, digging his hands into his coat pockets. "She likes your aura."

_My aura?_

He must have read your thoughts because he started to elaborate before you could query. 

"She says it's a dark rouge. Not as beautiful as mine, but pretty close to the other members." He sighed, lowering his voice. "Anna's had a difficult past. I didn't like her at first. She was annoying."

Mikoto's words surprised you. The way he talked in short sentences made it easy to follow, though.

"As a strain, she's synced herself with me," he continued. "She's colorblind, red is the easiest to see. Especially the auras of other members. Apparently, mine is the clearest."

He turned to look at you, offering a shrug. "Maybe yours is clear, too."

_Anna is a strain? That would explain her pale skin and crimson eyes. And her ability to read my mind._

As usual, you weren't paying attention and forgot the last step in the cluster. The toe of your shoe awkwardly hit the step, causing you to fall forward and yelp. To your surprise, you didn't fall. Instead, a hand was wrapped around your wrist and holding you upright. Your [e/c] eyes gazed up at the Red King, silently thanking him. He tightened his grip on your wrist; then yanked upward. And just like that, you were suddenly in his arms; being carried up the next flight of stairs like some sort of bride. You hadn't noticed when his other arm curled underneath the backside of your knees, but he somehow did it.

And Mikoto was carrying you with ease; like you didn't weigh anything. You thought Yata was strong; this was strength on some other level.

Face flushed, you stammered out a small, "W-Why?"

"Climbing thirteen flights of stairs isn't something normal people are capable of."

Your legs did burn, and you were getting exhausted. So silently, you were gratefully thanking him for carrying you up the rest of the way. It was a gesture that only the Red King could do in a perfectly platonic way.

"Anna knew you were going to join Homra. She told me in a dream the night before you came to us."

You felt your arms rise to curl them around his neck. Deciding on remaining silent, you buried your face into his coat. Comfort washed through your veins; the same way it did when Yata held you.

_Maybe the members of Homra are capable of making people feel safe. I'm not complaining._

Finally, he reached the top of the stairwell. He opened the metal door with a loud creak that echoed down the large tower of stairs. Stepping through to the other side, he set you on your feet. Observing your surroundings, you realized that you were on top of a massive building. It overlooked the entire city. If it was a bit taller, you might have been able to touch the clouds.

Mikoto gestured for you to follow, so you did. He walked to the edge and peered down at the various amounts of people that roamed the streets of Shizume. Noticing how high up you were suddenly made you feel nauseous.

"What do you see?"

Surprised at the sudden question, you blinked. Your gaze found itself fixated on the scenery.

"Luxurious, puffy clouds, a blue sky, architecture, and people."

He shook his head. "Look closer," he instructed.

And you did. You followed his gaze and found yourself peering at the people below. There were tons of them; but there were some that looked similar. There were junkies and gangbangers who carried bats, plumbing pipes, and other random types of weaponry. There were also people wearing blue coats that seemed to spy on the viscous looking gangbangers.

"Dangerous men with weapons. And people in blue coats, as well as civilians," you answered.

Mikoto mused, "That would be the Red Clansmen and the Blue Clansmen."

A chilled, spring wind blew across the two of you, and you visibly shivered. Instantly, you regretted not grabbing a jacket while you had the chance. But again, Mikoto seemed to have read your mind because he was already sliding his coat off and placing it onto your shoulders. You smiled silently in thanks.

"The men down there are the busy boys; the ones that scout information and report back to me. They hardly hang out in Homra."

You nodded in acknowledgement; gazing down at the eccentric men below.

"Think of it like chess," he began. "Of course, I'd be the king." He paused to light another cigarette and take a long drag. "Anna would be the queen, and Izumo the bishop. He's like our second hand; if you will."

The way Mikoto started to speak and get into describing his clansmen had you mesmerized. He spoke highly of his members; his appreciation clearly evident in his voice. It made you admire Homra as a whole.

"Tatara is the knight. He's our intel-collector." Mikoto turned to peer at you, his amber eyes focused. "Yata is our rook; protecting the most important pieces of the game. When he joined, he specifically acted as the Clan's vanguard."

His hand gestured toward the men below. "They're our pawns. Not that they're useless or spendable; they're just the guys that scout and report."

You curled into the Red King's coat, appreciating the warmth it radiated. When he looked over at you, you offered him a nod of understanding. 

"Which piece do you think you'll be?"

That question surely caught you off guard. Lost in thought, you blinked again. Thankfully, he answered for you.

"We already know you've gotten close to Yata, but you aren't the type to start a fight," he hummed in thought. "Anna believes you'd be our second knight."

_A knight? Tatara seems way more intelligent than me. He'd definitely do a better job than I ever could._

"Whichever piece you are doesn't matter. My clansmen are equally as important to me," he finished and flicked ash away from his cigarette.

"Was it wrong of me to ask to join your clan, Mikoto?"

A hum rumbled inside of his throat as he pondered your question. Mikoto knew what you meant; that asking to join was unusual. He didn't seem to mind, though; because he gave you a sly smirk and a small shake of his head.

"We've already welcomed you."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! c: 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this little bit of Mikoto x Reader. I love his character to death. :3


	8. Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot happens in this chapter. Fushimi is in part of it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [e/c]=eye color  
> baka=idiot

There was a rumble of thunder in the distance as you made your way over to the Park. That’s what you decided to call it, because you haven’t actually figured out the real name of ‘the Park.’ If it even had one. The quiet, rhythmic pattern of your footsteps was soothing to hear. Your senses picked up the smell of rain; or rather, the plants reacting to rain. Breathing in the pleasant scent had you relax even more than you already were.

Your feet found themselves at the base of a small hill. Observing your surroundings, you noticed that the sky turned into a feathery gray color. A smile curved your lips. And just as you felt the first raindrop cascade down your cheek, you ascended up the hill towards your tree.

It was the same tree that you had your first pleasant conversation with Yata.  Your tree; the weeping, aged sakura. There was a large root jutting from the earth, and that was where you always perched yourself.

The weather had picked up its pace and the drizzling rain turned into a light sprinkle, so you hurried your steps. The last thing you wanted was to get soaked.

Your feet had lead you to your destination, and in habit, you sat on that particular root. Casually, as if you’d done this a million times before, you got comfortable and crossed your legs. Actually, it felt as if you _had_ done this a million times before. This was your favorite spot in all of Shizume; a place where you could easily escape the noise of Homra and the business of the city.

A chilled wind tickled your cheeks and you found yourself snuggling into the hoodie you were wearing. It wasn’t yours; it was your friend’s, Yata’s.

~*~

_“Heard it might rain today,” Kusanagi mused as he leaned against the bar. He jabbed a thumb in your direction and smirked. “Might wanna wear something more than just a tank.”_

_You were going through the songs listed in the old-fashioned jukebox when he spoke, and turned your head to give him a polite smile._

_“I should be fine,” you shrugged and continued your curious browsing._

_The bartender let a sigh roll off his lips. You heard him whisper something to someone, but you weren’t particularly interested because you found an English song listed in the jukebox. Amused, you pressed a button on the top of the jukebox and allowed_ Comfortably Numb _by_ Pink Floyd _to fill the walls of the bar._

_Someone backhanded your shoulder playfully, and you turned to look at the culprit with a warning glare._

_“Didn’t know you liked stuff like that,” the teen smirked._

_Rolling your eyes at your hazel-eyed friend, you placed your hands on your hips. “I was curious,” you smirked back._

_Suddenly, Yata looked as if he might be sick. His eyes widened and he kept clearing his throat. You were used to this behavior by now, so you figured he was just being bashful. Attempting to keep conversation, you gave his shoulder a tiny shove._

_“Are you still gonna go to the park later? You still haven’t taught me anything about skateboarding.”_

_He looked nervous. “Er, w-well no, actually. Sorry. I’ve gotta help the gang with a few errands.”_

_“Oh, okay.” You smiled at him, attempting to cheer him up. God, he was always nervous around you. It almost made you feel like a burden._

_“B-But you can still go! You can borrow my board if-“_

_“Nah, I’d rather you show me how.”_

_Yata mumbled inaudibly and avoided your gaze. You watched as he curled his fingers underneath the hem of his sweatshirt and pulled it over his head. He tossed it at you with a shy glance._

_“Wear that if you get cold. I know you’re gonna go explore the city again; you always do,” he mumbled just loud enough for you to hear._

~*~

Pulling the sleeves of the white hoodie down and over your fingers for warmth, you closed your eyes. Listening to the steady downpour of rain put your heart at ease.

An entire month had gone by since you joined Homra. You could’ve sworn that the ‘celebration’ went on for a week because of how ecstatic most of the members were. There were some that you didn’t know yet, but they were just as welcoming as the ones you knew well.

It took Yata awhile to get used to having you around. Your presence always put him on edge. It has since the day you met the easily flustered teen. But you knew that he also enjoyed your company; in fact, sometimes you thought he craved it.

A crack of thunder and a flash of light interrupted your thoughts. Your [e/c] eyes gazed at the lightning that illuminated the gray clouds.

_I should probably get going before I get soaked._

You made your way towards the exit of the park while placing your headphones upon your ears. Quickly, you pressed play on your shuffled playlist and moved to the rhythm of the music.

Yata still hadn’t gotten you a new phone, but you were okay with that because lately he’d been letting you borrow his so that Tatara didn’t always go without. You convinced yourself that it was just a chivalry type of thing; but as it continued for this past month, you realized that the two of them were just nice people in general.

Tatara favored you; always including you in projects, games, errands, even chores whenever you were hanging around Homra. He called you ‘Princess,’ which itched your nerves at first, but the nickname grew on you because every time he’d say it, a grin spread across his face.

He was the type of friend that was always patient with you, and you appreciated that. You weren’t the type of person to open up right away, and he was okay with it.

Your other friend on the other hand wasn’t always patient. It took a concerning amount of time to actually befriend the idiot. But once you did, you felt like he favored you, too. Your favorite thing to do was to tease Yata. The reactions that you sometimes got tugged at your heartstrings.

It didn’t take you long to realize that you had started crushing on him. He made it so easy, though. Always stammering, blushing, and angrily reacting when another guy would look twice at you. The times you hung out around his apartment would always be in your memory. The two of you would always do random things for amusement, and that was your favorite type of friendship to have.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed your forearm and whipped you around. Gasping and wincing in surprise, your free hand lifted to tug your headphones down around your neck. When you opened your eyes, you were met with a pair of glasses, and a very disapproving scowl.

“So you’re the newest recruit, huh? I should’ve figured.” His voice was plain; empty, like he was bored even though their conversation had just started.

“Fushimi,” you mumbled.

“Yes. I’m honored you remembered my name! But then again, how could someone forget me? I’ve got such a wild character.”

His grip on your arm tightened and you attempted to tug it out of his grasp.

“You’re hurting me,” you murmured, almost frightened.

“Am I? Damn.” He had this crazy look in his eyes; like he was about to go cannibal and eat your arm.

You attempted to tug your arm away from him again, and he snickered at your weakness.

“What do you want, Fushimi?” Your voice squeaked, making you sound vulnerable.

Even though you were vulnerable.

The taller teen’s eyebrows furrowed as he thought for a moment. “What do I want? I want to play,” he stated that simply, as if there wasn’t a need for an explanation. But after observing the curious look on your face, he sighed in annoyance.

“You’re Misaki’s new puppet, mm?” He clicked his tongue. “The last time I spoke with him, he said he’d kill me.” His free hand moved to your shoulder and shoved you into an (ironically convenient for him) alleyway. Fushimi’s strength was evidently clear when he shoved you again against the brick wall of the building.

“I-I remember,” you muttered helplessly. “I’m not his puppet.”

“Ah, but you are! You’re his new toy.” He growled through gritted teeth, “You replaced me. That used to be my spot in his life.”

_What is this guy even talking about?_

“We’re friends-“

“FRIENDS?” Fushimi cackled and dug his nails into your shoulders, pressing your back against the wall even harder. “You’re not friends. You’re his puppet.”

The look in his eyes seemed to darken, which seemed impossible because they were already shrouded in a veil of unexplainable darkness.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve felt my dearest Misaki’s hatred. I’m sure he’ll get a kick,” he paused and inched closer. Crazed eyes gazed over your features. “You’ve been around him quite a lot lately,” he mumbled to himself.

Your thoughts were racing to figure a way out of this situation, but you couldn’t seem to think hard enough.

“I can smell him on you,” he spat with a twisted grin.

A slender finger was brought up to tilt your lowered chin. That grin on his face slowly formed into a disgusted scowl when his finger snagged the collar of your borrowed sweatshirt; pulling it down to reveal Homra’s insignia on your right collarbone. Frustrated, you quickly swatted his hand away with a glare.

And in an instant, his hand rung around your neck. “Don’t you think that was rude, [Name]?” Fushimi started cackling again. “Ah, I think I’ve found the perfect way to get Misaki’s attention.” His hand tightened around your throat and you found yourself struggling to breathe.

Again, in a split second you felt something jab into your left shoulder. Glancing over at it, you found that Fushimi’s free hand was coiled around a flaming throwing knife.

Except the flames were blue and the only red you saw was the blood staining Yata’s white hoodie.

_Adrenaline has to be blocking the pain. There’s no other way I couldn’t be shrieking in pain._

“Fushimi, stop.” Your voice wavered. “Why—“

“Because you _stole_ Misaki away from me,” he hissed.

_I shouldn’t have left Homra alone._

 

~*~

 

The rather annoying interruption to your day lasted a short bit of time, but it was enough time to allow the clouds covering the sky to erupt into a vicious downpour. You were soaked; and you instantly regretted not bringing an umbrella. The feeling of having wet clothes clinging to your skin made you grit your teeth.

And it wasn’t like you could just run back to Homra; not in the state you were in.

Fushimi left you wounded and it was enough to make your vision hazy. The streets were spinning, and you were actually grateful that nearly no one was outside because of the rain. The brooding headache made your head feel heavy. You knew you hadn’t lost a lot of blood, but maybe your body was acting up because it was also shivering.

_Either way, I’m almost there._

And within the next few minutes, your feet stopped dead at the stairs leading into Homra. Blinking, you observed the entryway with a pout. The classic sign that usually read ‘OPEN’ was flipped around and read ‘CLOSED.’ Deciding on trying the door anyway, you slowly ascended the few steps and gently opened it.

_Why isn’t it locked?_

You found yourself creeping quietly into darkness because none of the lights were on. With everything that happened today, you legitimately considered that you dreamt all of it.

Then you heard a scuffing sound, and the lights flicked on in a blinding stare.

“SURPRISE!”

When your eyes had finally focused, you found Tatara and Yata standing behind the bar with widespread grins. Your [e/c] irises watched as their joy faded into fear. It was in this same moment that Tatara had shot his confetti gun, so the environment for the situation was completely flipped around. You felt _awkward._

The two boys gaped at you for a few moments before Tatara moved to approach you with a very concerned Yata following close by.

“Oh Princess!” Tatara wailed, outstretching his arms and coddling you within them. “What happened?”

A grumbling Yata stood behind Tatara and dug his hands into his pockets. You watched as he nervously eyed you, gnawing on his bottom lip. When the frantic teen finally released you from his arms, he frowned at you.

“It rained,” you said flatly.

They _groaned_ simultaneously at your lame avoidance to the question.

“Yata, figure it out. I’ll go find that first aid kit,” he ordered and skipped away into the basement.

He pointed to the bar with another grumble and you obeyed his silent order, shuffling over towards one of the stools. When you seated yourself, he stood in front of you.

“Spit it out,” he muttered with a hint of concern.

“I went to the park and someone was angry with me on the way back.”

His hand reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose and Yata growled quietly. “Yeah, I _know._ But what happened?”

Before you could respond, a frantic Tatara whipped around the corner and tossed Yata a small first aid kit. “I’ll find her some warm blankets and—“ The rest of what he said was inaudible because he had already tumbled downstairs.

Sighing, you watched as Yata rummaged through the kit. “What were you guys doing? What’s the surprise?”

“We er, I finally got you that phone.” He jabbed a thumb at the nicely decorated box sitting on the corner of the bar. You had totally missed it. “The confetti was his idea. I thought it was lame,” he shrugged.

Yata’s voice was uncharacteristically _gentle_. It was definitely soothing to hear.

“Sorry I stained your sweatshirt.”

“W-What the fuck? You’re sittin’ here _bleeding_ for fucks sake! Stop worrying.” He shuffled over to you again, and your neck craned so you could read his face. He looked worried, that was certain. “Alright take it off,” Yata ordered in a _soft_ tone of voice. Boy, was he trying.

“C-Can’t we just, I don’t know, roll the sleeve up?” You bit your bottom lip. Anxiety started to form in the pit of your stomach. You really didn’t want him to see the marks Fushimi left. Yata would be furious.

“No.”

“Yata, please—“

“No; lift up your arm. I’ll help so it doesn’t hurt as bad.”

Reluctantly, you obeyed. There wasn’t really a point in arguing. Yata was stubborn and you knew he wasn’t in the mood to argue. Especially when you hadn’t even explained yourself yet. So you lifted your arm to rest horizontally in the air while Yata’s fingertips gingerly grabbed the wet fabric and started tugging upward. He maneuvered the wet clothing around your outstretched arm so you wouldn’t have to really move it. You were grateful for that.

“W-What in the _hell_ …” Hazel eyes scanned your collar bone in befuddlement.

“Yata, wait.”

“NO. Who the fuck did this to you!?” The softness of his voice disappeared. He sounded angrier than any other time you’d seen him get worked up. _“Why the hell is there a **hickie** next to your Homra symbol?”_

“Why are you so angry at me?” There was a frightened lilt to your voice.

“Why are you avoiding my damn questions? Answer me.” Yata growled and threw his bloodied sweatshirt across the room.

“F-Fushimi,” you muttered. Instantly, your hand reached to grab onto his forearm. “Don’t freak out, though. I’m fine.”

Yata _did_ freak out. You could see it in his eyes. They burned with some sort of hatred. Was there jealousy, too? Despite his emotion, he was actually able to maintain himself. Sighing and swallowing his boiling rage, he moved to work on your injured shoulder.

After he had cleaned most of the dried blood off, he started wrapping your shoulder. A few minutes had gone by, and they were painfully silent. You wished there was some way for you to reach out to him and tell him exactly what had happened, but you weren’t sure where to start.

_“ Baka_ ,” he muttered underneath his breath.

Tatara returned with a few towels and a large blanket. Once you had dried yourself off to the best of your ability, you curled yourself into the blanket. After awhile of talking to the two boys and thanking them over and over for the new phone, you moved to sit on the sofa. Tatara had left again to go find Mikoto and give him the news but not after scolding Yata and forcing him to stay behind to watch and take care of you. Even after your numerous attempts at telling them you were fine, they insisted that someone stay with you.

So there you were, sitting on the sofa of Homra fiddling with your new phone. It looked expensive; it was definitely an upgrade from your previous one. Turning your gaze over at Yata who was tidying up the bar, you gave him a grateful smile.

Hazel eyes glanced in your direction and his face flushed. He reached up to rub the back of his neck and sighed. “You still haven’t told me what happened.”

Your eyes followed his frame as he moved to sit on the opposite end of the sofa, gnawing on his bottom lip. His right hand melded into a fist and you could tell he was still pretty upset about it.

“I don’t really know. I mean, he just came up to me and started talking about how I’m your new puppet. He wasn’t making any sense,” you sighed.

“Bastard.” He suddenly stood up and glared at you, which made your stomach turn. “Why didn’t you do anything?”

_What? I couldn’t. Why is he upset at me?_

Your eyes blinked at him in confusion. “I…couldn’t,” you whispered airily.

“Yeah you could’ve. You’re a member of Homra.”

“I’m not as strong as you—“

“Bullshit,” he grumbled and turned his back to you.

Standing up, you knitted your brows and glared at the back of his head. “Why are you upset at me?”

“You’re not as weak as you think,” he muttered.

“Well he was stronger than I was.”

“Fine, but why didn’t you at least fucking try? Monkey is a fuckin’ wimp.”

“Why weren’t you there to protect me?” There was more venom in your voice than you wanted, but you didn’t care. There wasn’t any reason for him to take his anger out on you. And he really wasn’t there to protect you.

Yata whipped around, hands balled into fists.  “You went off on your own! I was here setting up your surprise dammit. You didn’t even _notice_ it when you walked in!” Yata was shouting now, which made you retaliate just as loud.

“Yeah, I was too busy being in pain!”

He took a step towards you and growled, “How was I supposed to know that was going to happen?”

You stepped towards him, eyes glaring daggers. “Why do you _hate_ me so much?”

His face flushed and his expression relaxed before it tensed up again. “I-I don’t fucking _hate_ you,” he murmured.

“Sure seems like it.”

Yata grumbled again and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “You’re so damn complicated,” he whispered underneath his breath. But you heard it.

“You’re one to talk,” you mumbled and turned to go through the music on the jukebox. It was an awkward silence as you flipped through the various songs. Your head was pounding, and all you really wanted to do was go lay down. But you hated arguing with Yata, it made your stomach knot up with anxiety. You knew he’d calm down eventually.

“Hey,” he started.

Sighing, you rolled your eyes. “Haven’t you said enough?”

You heard him inch closer towards you but you didn’t turn to look. Part of you was angry at him for taking his frustration out on you.

“H-Hey.” His voice was softer. “[Name], look at me.”

Turning slowly, you looked over your shoulder at him. He looked apologetic. Good; he should be.

“S-Sorry, alright? I’m not…g-good with this stuff,” he mumbled.

Rolling your eyes, you huffed at him playfully. “So you _don’t_ hate me?”

He started gnawing on his lower lip at your words. You could tell he was thinking. Then, swiftly he maneuvered closer towards you and gingerly cupped his calloused fingertips around your face. Yata blushed all the way to the tips of his ears. Gently, he lifted your chin and gave you a look of overwhelming sincerity.

Hazel, hooded eyes gazed into wide [e/c]. Your eyes watched as he fluttered his shut and inched his face closer to yours. Closer. When he was barely an inch away from your lips, he released a shaky sigh that sent a shiver up your spine. He very slowly and delicately pressed his lips onto yours. It was a chaste kiss; lasting for only a moment.

When he realized that you hadn’t pulled away, the flustered teen pressed another kiss upon your lips. This time, it was hungrier; like he had waited an eternity. A quiet groan rumbled in his throat and you felt your hand reaching up to grasp at his shirt.

He pulled away just enough to brush his lips against yours and murmured a quiet, _“I don’t hate you.”_


End file.
